Super sick
Stress catching up, Isaiah gets incredibly sick out on the street. Kieran helps. Lots of vomit in this one, be warned.
"You are acting weird," Kieran said. It was exactly what Isaiah didn't want to hear.
Rip was on the mend, silver successfully out, but he caught a fever during the night and was under constant supervision.
That was one thing, but the crime itself pressed on Isaiah's brain like buzzing flies. He needed to start handling it, but also do it subtly, while on the stupid house arrest too.
Guilt was eating at him like acid. It was all his fault. He should have made sure that when someone wanted to hurt him, they wouldn't go through Rip. That everyone knew what they risked crossing him like that, using silver.
But he always knew that if he kept people close to him, they would be a target. To hurt him, they would become the collateral damage.
Has he been too soft lately? But after the scandal of his recent ruthless defense move with Margaret...did he miscalculate that badly?
So he talked with the Grays and Minzs who guaranteed him that two or three hours out in the city, if he didn't leave, would be fine.
He explained to Dominick and Kieran he would leave and when Domonick jumped up that this wasn't in the plans, Isaiah gently reminded him what the plan actually was.
"I'm going to check on the Millers if they really did it. If they did, without the crowd and their witch covering them, I'll know." He rubbed his hands together at the image. Persuasion techniques from his father weren't fun, but they were very effective.
"I'll teach them a lesson. A couple weeks without a shadow with broken hands will be educative enough." His voice dropped to freezing temperatures without him realizing. It was Dominick's shiver and Kieran's sudden step back that made him look up and check himself.
"I'll also stop by the Jungs and show them how to speed up calling up your shadow when rolled down."
Dominick whistled. "You will give them advantage over the Millers for the next couple of weeks. They are neighbouring the territories with the Jungs."
"Can't blame my friendship with Roy Jung on that," Isaiah said, voice smoothing out like velvet. "These are fair consequences for those who help and those who attack me."
Dominick had been quite speechless after that, which satisfied the Executioner. Surprising Mr Strategist was a good sign.
He liked Dominick alright. His level of planning and calculation, how much forward he could think, the overview and info he had about all the big and small packs and the interconnections between them—not just on the wolf level, but on territories, properties, capital—it was the money side of things that Isaiah sometimes overlooked.
Things he didn't learn to question or consider or knew only intuitively were easy for Dom to spell out. What a fun guy to have around.
Once he settled on what to do, it was easy to execute. Making things happen always brought him relief. He was finished before lunch.
So it happend that Isaiah was power-walking through a crowd when Kieran caught up to him going back from the Jungs on the square point between their territory and the Wolfsons.
Even with the tasks finished, Isaiah felt restless. His hands were prickling, his stomach churned and his chest felt heavy. It didn't bring him as much relief as he wanted or was his chest hurting for a different reason-
Ah. Right. He had been doing so well after the Margaret thing. Keeping himself upright and in cheek after the initial shock.
His shadow up and streaming him with power, not to mention how adrenaline and dire situations enegrized him. Adrenaline made him calm and focused and clear-eyed.
But now it was out of his hands. He debated with Grayson, he showed himself at the Wolf meet; he gathered up allies and enemies alike. Now the decision was out of his hands.
He was more convinced about his judgment being right too. With Kieran and the Grays standing up for him so unconditionally (how did Kieran manage that? His brother didn't seem as thrilled), Jung and Minz and Wolfsons siding with him...
And against all possible odds and calculations, it was Dorian Stark who Seline happened to have some moving conversation with during the wolf meet. She seemed to have made such an impression on their fresh new witch that the Starks, leaning neutral before and being pulled by the Jeagers (who were decidedly against Isaiah on principle in everything) were now ready to support him. Them.
Starks were going to tip the scales, Isaiah was sure. They wouldn't be spirited in the support, but this slight sympathy from them as the eldest and most established Vienna pack of the Big Three...they basically won.
It wasn't official or accepted and there might still be resistance, but this was it.
Dorian Stark, hmm? Isaiah didn't catch Starks getting a witch, nor that he was male. That was incredibly rare and should have caused more of an uproar. Did he neglect things again, not paying attention enough?
"Obviously, they hid him," came the voice next to him, making him jump. Kieran eyed him from the side. "Earth to Isaiah."
Isaiah didn't realize he said it out loud. "Why not present him though? One in a million male witch and they don't go bragging?"
Kieran shrugged. "Drawing attention to a new unstable member? Witches don't have to listen and he is a wild card, from what I heard. Human descended always are."
Not socialised to the pack life, their decisions and stances tended to be unpredicted just like their abilities. Isaiah learned that first hand with Seline and Dylan.
"I should have paid more attention," Isaiah grumbled under his nose, avoiding a man directly in front of him and almost crashing into another. How did they end up at Karslplatz at the lunch hour, the most crowded one? The square filled with tourists and hurried hungry office workers was overwhelming.
"You were kinda busy," Kieran said, somehow managing to keep pace with him.
"Should have tried harder. Should have known sooner." His chest hurt, pulsating with pain. As if his lungs constricted around him. His stomach rolled uneasily, his breakfast churning right at the top of the brick like full feeling.
Heart acting up always messed with his digestion, even if he ate something light and easy. Great.
"Against all expectations, you are still not a god, Isaiah," Kieran said jokingly.
That made the wolf stop abruptly. It wasn't even really the words, just the sudden nauseous wave crashing over him, tightening his throat. His mouth flooded with saliva and he almost threw up right there, in the middle of the crowded street.
"Isaiah?"
The sun flashed right into his eyes, a dizzying sensation in his head making him look away. With all those people he couldn't avoid touch. The passerbies kept bumping into him. Jesus, couldn't people not walk in straight organized lanes?
"What are you doing here?" He muttered to himself. Why did he turn here? Where did he leave the car, why would he head this way? Damn, this was confusing.
"Huh? You want to forbid me to come?" Kieran asked in surprise, misunderstanding his words, eyebrows scrunched in a frown. "You could have waited for me."
Isaiah shook his head. Another person bumped into his arm. Revulsion rolled through him, magnifying the nausea. "What for?"
Something angry flashed through Kieran's expression but Isaiah felt too dizzy to decode it.
"Because I wanted to. Because you shouldn't be marching off into the sunset alone as you always do. I'm telling you I can come with you. If you think I can't be helpful just because I don't have a shadow to throw around-"
All those heartbeats around him. The breathings, all out of rhythm. So many colours, coats, shirts, dresses. Head after head around him, like an endless sea.
"-wouldn't be in the way. Are you that self-absorbed or just that dense?"
"Go...where?"
"With you." Kieran leaned away, burying his hands in his pockets, completely unbothered by the people smashing into him too. "If you don't want me there, say it outright. Don't run on ahead and ignore me when I come get you."
Kieran wanted to come with him? Why? To what, see him scare and hurt people, take their souls away from them for punishment?
But Isaiah had gone and done just that. In self-righteous self-appointed anger that felt justified and blinding.
"Are you listening to me, you prick? We came up with those plans together, now you move on alone and I assumed, wrongly I guess, that by sharing what you would do-" Kieran's voice zoned in and out of focus, rising from the crowd and then disappearing again.
The shame that filled him at the idea of someone seeing him, seeing it, seeing him do that, being that cruel twisted his stomach into knots. Sharp knife dug under his ribs, making him gasp from the pain.
"You are not going to say something back? If you think I'm going to let you off the hook like your weak-willed little packlings-"
But if he enjoyed doing it, it would be worse. Then he would turn out to be like those pack-only executioners who enjoyed the violence, the thrill of the kill. He would be like father, when the madness shone from his eyes...
Hot liquid rushed up his throat and Isaiah gagged, pressing a hand against this lips to suppress it. "I need to leave. Stay here." He turned abruptly, looking for a side-alley or restaurant,...eh yes, right over there, the subway entry.
Ignoring Kieran confused angry questions, Isaiah headed towards the hole in the ground, jumping over the railing to skip the steps. The impact rattled his stomach, the nausea washing over his skin with sweat, but the bathrooms blinked to life right to the left.
He hurried inside, putting in coins with shaky hands and opening one of the big stalls.
Kieran's hand stuck in between the door just in time to stop it. "What's wrong with you? That was a mighty jump, sure, but aren't you supposed to be inconsp-"
Turning unceremoniously towards the toilet, Isaiah leaned down just in time to vomit up his breakfast.
"What the fuck?"
"G'way-" The words caught in his mouth as another heave surged up. He went blind and deaf from the intensity, stomach squeezing and rolling. Vomit rushed up his throat and he retched so hard, half his organs must have catapulted out.
His legs wouldn't hold him and before he could stop it, he was kneeling down on the messy subway bathroom floor. The puke wave didn't wait for him to find his balance, exploding out of his mouth.
It was scary how out of control it was. Isaiah felt like he was drowning, like liquid flooded him only to purge out, his stomach constracting again and again. The vomit burned his throat, his tongue, dripped from his nose, he couldn't breathe-
"Alright, alright, that's enough." A strong arm wrapped around him, tilting him back over the toilet bowl. A hand on his nape pushed him closer as his throat bobbed, liquid spewing out.
Kieran patted his back a couple times, coaxing up a burp and pieces of rice from yesterday's dinner buried in milky foamy mess. The sight of it splattering in the bowl made him gag all over again, tears of extortion running down his cheeks.
"I didn't realize you were feeling sick. I'm sorry, I didn't-"
Another wave had his spine curling. Isaiah grabbed onto Kieran's shoulder, fingers digging into the fabric of his black jacket as he heaved again. His stomach hurt, boiling knives inside him and his heart was beating out of his chest.
A meager amount splashed out and Kieran reached over to flush the toilet overflowing with Isaiah's stomach content. "Woah, man. Didn't know you could pack this much inside you."
A disgusted burp and Isaiah was sagging to the side like a puppet cut off its strings.
"Shit." Kieran caught him, tucking him against his side. "What's wrong with you? Did you catch a stomach flu or something? Hey."
A hand against his sweaty forehead. How gross that Kieran's fingers came out all wet from his face.
"You don't have a fever. What the fuck's this?"
The wolf tried to open his eyes, but there were bleary splotches dancing in front of him. He groaned, burying his head into Kieran's chest. "Feel dizzy..."
Kieran readjusted his grip so Isaiah could lean against him from the side. "I don't get it. You didn't eat anything else than us, you cooked the meal yourself." His hands wondered around his body and Isaiah didn't have the energy to protest the search for injuries.
"Wow okay. Your heartbeat's off the charts, you know that? Did you have a panic attack or something?"
"Kieran..."
"If you tell me to leave one more time I swear I'm going-"
"Gonna-gonna pass out..." He tried to say in warning. Another muffled curse and then blackness.
He woke in want felt like just a second later, to Kieran patting his cheek.
"Jesus christ, Isaiah. Please, wake up. Isaiah? Hey, you with me?"
Isaiah groaned in response, blinking his eyes with great effort. His stomach gurgled ominously, but he felt more tired from the cramping and heaving than pained.
"Isaiah?" Kieran stopped with the patting, cupping his cheek instead. It was then that Isaiah realized he was lying in Kieran's lap on the floor like a limp doll.
"Wow man. That was one heck of a show. You feeling any better?"
"Why are you...you are holding me-" his cheeks burned and he tried to get up from that humiliating position, but Kieran pulled him back immediately with overpowering strength.
"Wouldn't let you sleep on that crapy floor, who do you take me for?" Kieran chuckled, smoothing out Isaiah's hair. "Don't stress about it, Barbie, it's fine. Emergency and shit. If you try to get up, I'm gonna roast you though."
Isaiah feebly reached for Kieran's arm around his waist, lying on his back in the other man's lap. Drool covered his chin all the way down his neck and under the lem of his shirt. The sensation made him gag, nausea skyrocketing. "Get me-get me up, please-"
A burp came up that finally seemed to convince Kieran to help him sit up and lean against the toilet. His hands were steady, Isaiah trembling in his grip.
Isaiah's throat convulsed and he burped, a retch at its end, but nothing but a bit of bile came up. He retched again, the movement strangely relieving against the nausea.
"You are really going through it," Kieran said sympathetically, patting his back again, before settling on an arm around his shoulders. "Breathe. No passing out anymore, okay? That scared the shit out of me."
A belch had him sagging against the rim of the toilet. Kieran leaned his arm on top of it, cushioning Isaiah's chin on his own forearm. He noticed Isaiah's own arms hanging all limp at his sides.
Something about that gesture had such warmth blooming over his chest, Isaiah almost burst into tears. He managed to hiccup instead, leaning his forehead against the offered arm, face out of view.
"Okay. You are okay." Kieran rubbed his back, leaning closer over him. "Just sit and relax. I'm gonna get you home soon."
Isaiah nodded, humilated and touched at the same time. His body let go, giving in against his will.
